


Yes, Tom - Chapter 22

by riddlemetitillatedhiddles (ninecats)



Series: Yes, Tom [23]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninecats/pseuds/riddlemetitillatedhiddles





	Yes, Tom - Chapter 22

As I tried to calm down, I realized I had no clue where I was, or what I should do. I had my phone, but I didn't have much money or any credit cards with me and I didn't know if I could take a cab without paying the entire fair first. It was also really cold, and I didn't have a coat. I was lost and completely alone.

I stopped for a moment, fishing my phone out of my purse. Of course, there were already 10 missed calls from Tom. I looked through the rather slim amount of contacts I had amassed while in London. I'd only been here for a couple of months, and it had been mostly spent working. There hadn't been time to even think about making friends. I wondered if Sarah was around, but just as I went to push her number, the phone rang again. This time, it wasn't Tom's number. It was Chris'. So I answered. I should have known better.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth, please don't hang up!" Tom. He sounded… desperate. Frantic. It was nice. But I really wasn't ready for explanations. Nor was I in a mood to care, regardless of the perfectly crafted soliloquy that would drip from his tongue and lull me back into acceptance of any explanation. His voice was like heavenly quicksand, and I knew, I just knew I didn't have the resolve yet to demand answers. So I hung up. I was insulted that Chris would do that to me, let Tom use his phone to trick me into answering. It infuriated me, really. Apparently, he was much more Tom's friend than he was mine. I should have known, but it was a rude awakening nonetheless.

Shivering incessantly, and with the temperature continuing to drop, I found a little pub and went inside, seeking solace in the mass of people. I tried to think back and rationally examine what had really happened. What did I see? Truly? Nothing… but It was her party. Tom had to have known, right? He had to have lied. How could Chris have known if Tom had not? It didn't make any sense. I knew there would be some caveat, or a list of them; he didn't really know it was her party or he knew but just didn't want to upset me. And of course, he would insist that he doesn't really love her.  _'…I can't imagine losing you. I can't bear thinking about it.'_

I went up to the bar and ordered a Scotch. My phone was buzzing non-stop, so I answered it, just letting the noise of the bar register before I hung up. Then the texts started. 'I'm so very worried. Please let me explain.' 'Elizabeth, you need to answer the phone.' 'I love you so much.' 'Please darling please just tell me where you are.' 'Where are you? I've looked everywhere. Please let me know you're alright.'

I turned the phone off and put it back in my purse. The pub was so crowded I could barely even fit at the bar, so I grabbed my drink and went to sulk in a corner, trying to decide what I should do next. Just as I was about to take a sip, an elbow came crashing back towards me, knocking the glass out of my hands and onto the floor.

"Oh my god, I'm terribly sorry!" It was a male voice, English of course. Admittedly, he was incredibly handsome. The dark hair, impossibly blue eyes, taller than Tom even, dorky little smirk and the endless apologies.

"That's okay…"

"Did I get it on you? Oh god. I'm so sorry. Here I'll get you another." Before I could say a word, or indeed even tell him what my drink had been, he pushed through the throng and disappeared. The glass wasn't broken, so I tried my best to lean down and get it without being trampled or letting my dress ride up. I put the glass on the edge of the table closest to me and retreated into the corner. By this point I was anxious to have a drink just to help me calm down. Standing there awkwardly for a few minutes, I wondered if he was actually coming back, or if I was going to have to go buy myself a new drink. I definitely wasn't ready to leave and face… well, everything. Especially not with adorable strangers buying me drinks. At that moment, I couldn't care less what Tom thought, or what he had to say. About anything.

About to give up, I looked over and I could just see his head bobbing above the chaos, and I laughed a little as he tried to show me he had a drink in his hand. When he finally got to me, he handed me a glass of champagne and apologized. "I'm so sorry, I forgot to ask you what your drink was! I hope champagne is acceptable. I'm Liam, by the way."

"Eliz… Ellie. I'm Ellie." I offered my hand, blushing slightly. The crowd, the noise, my nerves and everything, had created this perfect storm. I wanted comfort. Desperately. And Liam was there. And he was comforting me. I took a drink and let the din of the bar drown out the one in my head.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ellie. Are you really here alone on New Year's?" He had little freckles, sprinkled haphazardly across his rosy cheeks and his hair did this little awkward thing at the front, like a cowlick on steroids, but it was cute. He was  really cute.

"Right now I am alone. I was not alone about an hour ago…" I trailed off, not finishing or wanting to explain.

"Ah, well. I should have known you weren't single." He narrowed his eyes at me just barely, and I knew he was really fishing for information.

"Well, at this point, that remains to be seen," I explained impassively, refusing to let my emotions get the best of me, and not wanting to discuss the… mess.

"Oh, well then… My friends and I were going to go dancing in a few minutes, care to join us?" I had already downed my glass of champagne, and my tolerance was so low and I hadn't eaten, so I could feel the warmth coursing through my veins, my inhibitions draining with every word I spoke. I reached up absentmindedly and felt my padlock. It wasn't fair. No matter what explanation, how was any of this fair?

 _Fair? You deserve it. You know you do._ I sighed heavily. It wasn't as if I was really doing anything wrong. Why couldn't I just forget… just for a couple of hours? Then I'd go back and let him explain away, let him tell me how sorry he was, he never really loved her. But all these questions kept racing through my head... Had he spoken to her? How did he even know about the party? Had he been calling her? Texting her? Torn between tremendous guilt, that I had somehow earned this, and overwhelming anger, fear, and misery that he had lied, or worse, I froze. I didn't know which part to believe. Half of me kept telling myself I needed to call him, let him explain. The other half said, 'He made you suffer. Why doesn't he have to suffer, too?'

"I'd love to, but…" I bit my lip nervously as I tried to find the words to give him an answer without having to explain.

After a few seconds, he offered softly, "You don't have to tell me. I understand. You can think of it as a diversion, if you like." Looking up at him, I just couldn't say no. I didn't even know him, but I didn't care.

"Okay, then I'd love to go." I smiled, a little guarded, but my answer was decisive. 

"Another drink? Yes?" He lifted his chin, gesturing at my empty glass.

"Sure," I replied, with a bigger smile this time. Liam worked his way back up to the bar while I made small talk with his friends. They thought it was very exciting that I had been working for Marvel, so that was kind of nice. Most of them worked in publishing, but apparently Liam was a writer, and had actually had one semi-successful collection of short stories.

Liam finally came back and handed me some more champagne, chiding his friends for talking about him in his absence. "Did they say anything terribly awful?"

"No… why? Is there something awful I should know about?" Smirking, I put my hand on my hip, flirting pretty obviously. While the alcohol must have been at least partly responsible, it was kind of empowering to flirt. Suddenly, I shivered, my nerves and the cold causing my entire body to tremble. Despite the warmth of the pub, I hadn't been able to warm back up after being outside for so long in such a flimsy dress. Gently, Liam laid his hand against my arm.

"You are freezing, darling. Here, why don't you wear my coat?" Nodding my assent, he pulled the coat off and held it up for me to slip into, the silk lining still warm from being against his body. It smelled of cigarettes and alcohol. Somehow, the scent was soothing. Somehow the 'darling' was not.

He turned away to speak with his friends and I looked at my phone one more time. More of the same. Texts from Chris now, even. 'Please let Tom explain.' 'Ellie I'm worried can I come get you?' I knew if I called Chris either Tom would answer or he'd put him on shortly, so I ignored it. Chris probably felt terrible, and I knew it wasn't fair that he was stuck in the middle. But he was obviously on Tom's side, or he wouldn't have let him use his phone. I wondered if the texts were even from him, or were just Tom again.

"Everything alright?" Liam's eyebrow slightly cocked as he saw me checking my phone.

I stuck my phone back in my purse, with a quick, "Yeah, I'm fine," and finished my second drink. I was more than a tad tipsy as we all headed towards the door. Between the crush of the partiers, Liam reached back for me and I grabbed his hand instinctively. It wasn't even a thought process; the submissive in me just responded automatically. I liked being made to feel safe. I didn't like having to be in control. I wanted to be led. _What am I doing here?_ I decided at that moment that I couldn't do it. The crowd was even worse by this point, as the clock inched closer to midnight, but we finally reached the door and tumbled out into the cold night air, me still clinging to Liam.

I started to stop him. My mouth was about to open. I wanted to say, 'I can't do this. I have to go. I'm sorry.' I didn't get the chance. There were so many limos that night I didn't even notice them all. I should have noticed this one, as it came to a screeching stop and suddenly pulled up to the curb. We were just about to walk past when the door opened and he got out: Tom.

"Elizabeth." I stopped in my tracks. He said it so gently. So tenderly. For a moment, I wanted to run to him. I forgot all about my fingers interlaced with Liam's. I forgot all about wearing his coat. That voice… But as the situation actually dawned on Tom, as he noticed what I was doing, I watched the emotions spread across his face in a huge spiral, and I could see it. That unmitigated rage. And the attempt to contain it. "Get in the car."

The tone. Clipped and cold. It just… penetrated my core. Immediately I bristled. The alcohol brought out my reactive nature and I just became livid. The last thing I was about to do was go with him after that. It was humiliating. He was supposed to be _apologizing_. He was supposed to be _begging_ me to come back. _I_ had to. And instead, he was demanding. Ordering. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Tom started to walk towards me. "Elizabeth. Just get in the car. We'll talk about it at home." He put his hand out, like he was honestly intending me to go with him. 

"No. Let's talk about it here, _Tom_. Let's talk about Sophie." I lifted my chin, refusing to be cowed. Audacity got the better of me, and I didn't let go of Liam's hand. I wanted to make sure Tom saw. Unfortunately, Liam's interest seemed to stop there.

He turned to me, his face tense, "Wait, _that_ 's your boyfriend?" Obviously he recognized Tom. It was hard not to know who he was, especially in London. He dropped my hand, taking the tiniest step away from me, and I realized my fun night of forgetting my problems was over. My face fell a little, and I bit my lip, trying to keep my temper in check. I took a deep breath and braced myself.

 Forcing a smile, I slipped Liam's coat off and handed it to him. "It was really wonderful to meet you." Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear. "Thank you, really. For the diversion."

He started to say something, but he didn't. Shooting me a little half-smile and a nod, he went to join his friends as Tom glared at him. Tom hadn't moved. He still stood, perfectly still, with his hand out. Expectant. 

I stayed put. Defiant.

"Oh for Christ's sake Elizabeth get in the fucking car. You've had your fun. You've made me jealous. Now get in the car."

"Fuck you, Tom. You need to explain yourself. You need to tell me how we ended up at a party with your ex-girlfriend. The one you were conveniently talking about today with that oh-so-wistful look in your eye. Oh, and that was right after last week, when you explained how important _honesty_ is in our relationship." I was gesturing wildly, refusing to keep my voice down, not caring if I made a scene. Nobody probably noticed anyway, with the celebration and the noise.

"Honesty? _You_ want to talk about honesty…" He stopped himself, pursing his lips and exhaling deliberately. 

"There we go. Let's bring this up again. The thing you promised you'd forgiven. I wondered how long it would take before you fucking threw that in my face. But there's a big fucking difference. I never wanted to talk to Michael. You engineered an _entire outing_ for us so you could see her!"

"Because I wanted her to see me.. _with you_!"

"Oh cut the fucking crap. It's ridiculous and you know it.  Do you still love her? Do you?"

"I love _you_."

"That's not what I fucking asked you!"

"Get in the car. You're drunk and this is not solving anything…" He stared at me for a moment, and seeing no softening of my resolve, he added a terse, "Please."

That just made me more indignant and I didn't move. "No."

"Get in the fucking car or I'll put you in it!"

"No! Tell me why you manipulated this whole…" Before I could finish, he was sprinting towards me. I turned around to run away, but I was too slow. He caught up to me easily, his legs so long and me on heels. Grabbing my arm, he swung me around, causing me to almost fall. "Okay!" I pushed him away from me and stumbled, more inebriated than I had anticipated. Tom caught my elbow, steadying me, and I jerked it away.

"God, Elizabeth. Please stop this. You know I love you…" 

"Fuck you, Tom."  I crawled into the limo just as it turned midnight, the fireworks and the uproar of voices ushering in a new year. Our new year. Our new start. The moment should have been perfect. I had expected a romantic evening with the man I loved. The man who made me feel whole for the first time in my life. Instead, it felt like everything we had built was a facade, ready to fall apart under the smallest amount of stress.

"Elizabeth…"

"Just forget it. I don't want your explanations. I don't want your justifications. Tom, I just want to… "

He scooted across the seat and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him. I put my hands up, trying to block him, but he was just so strong, and I was tired and cold and drunk and lost. I wriggled and squirmed and said "No", but honestly I didn't have the fight in me anymore. He refused to let go until I finally just calmed down and let him hold me. His face in the crook of my neck, breath hot against my cold skin and I could feel my resolve fading. My voice cracked a little as I uttered one more, "Please, Tom, don't…"

"I love _you_. Elizabeth, you have to know I love you and only you." 

All the emotion just came pouring forth, a deluge following a broken dam. I couldn't hold it in. I was so angry, so humiliated, so hurt. "How could you? How could you do this to me… I just…" The tears were so ready to fall, and I struggled not to sob outright. I didn't want to look at him. I knew it would be all over if I did.

Taking my face in his hands, he forced my gaze to his. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. I honestly just wanted her to be jealous. I don't know why. I guess I'm still hurt…"

"But if you're still hurt…" Insistent, I refused to let him explain everything away in some perfectly crafted apology. "Tom, if you still think about her…"

"I don't. I don't. But when Chris told me about the party, and told me she had mentioned to invite me, I felt this was one time that I could finally… I don't know. Finally regain my self-respect."

"Tom…" Grimacing, my brows furrowed deeply and looked down. It was too easy…

His hands shook my head just a little. "No! Do you even understand what that feels like? I had looked at rings Elizabeth. I thought she was going to be my wife. I thought that I was as happy as I would ever be, despite the nagging doubts, and I jumped in wholeheartedly. And to hear it as you come in the door. Smell it. Finally to see it. Do you even understand how that feels? You can't… it just…" His eyes just begged me for sympathy.

My mouth was open, but I couldn't say anything in response. I couldn't even grasp how badly that must have damaged him. Finally, all I could muster was a tiny, "I'm so sorry."

Collapsing against me, his forehead on mine, he started to cry. "Please, Elizabeth. I just wanted my self-respect back. I just wanted to show her, I'm not pathetic or pining anymore. I'm happy. Because I'm with you…" His lips so close, and as he pressed them to mine, everything melted away for a moment as I comforted him.

Until a little spark of reason jolted me from my complacency and I pulled away from him, shaking my head. "But that's _not_ it, and you know it! You lied… why did you lie?"

"I didn't want you to know..."

I interrupted him, frustration growing, "Tom, that's bullshit and you know it. I knew about Sophie, I…

"…that I'm actually so weak." His voice so soft and tremulous, his eyes sad and empty. Dejected. Frantically, he tried to kiss me again. "I'm sorry," he whispered breathily, that voice and his hands tightening around the back of my neck, as his mouth enveloped mine and I just relented. I pitied him. I loved him. And I wanted him.

"You're not weak, Tom." Still refusing to look at me, he began to kiss me again but I stopped him. " _Look at me_." He did. He obeyed. "You're not weak… sir."

I could see it spread over his face, that perfect look of dominance and control. But he didn't take me. Instead, he implored me, "Please… can I make love to you. Please?"

Narrowing my eyes just a bit, I was taken aback. Shocked though I was, I obliged, nodding simply as I let him move me onto my back. Deftly he unclipped my garters and removed my panties, rolling them off carefully and then spreading my legs. Instead of undoing his trousers, though, he moved my dress up and began to kiss my lower abdomen, trailing along to my hip. "Tom…"

"Shh… I love you. Elizabeth, I love you…" Finding my inner thighs, he began to suck gently. I bucked my hips a little. It wasn't that I didn't want oral sex, I just.. wanted him. This night, everything felt… different and I was a little unnerved. "Stay still. Shh…"

A command. I stopped moving, and as I did, his tongue lit against my already-wet slit. Whimpering, I covered my face with my arm as he pushed his tongue inside me. His arms wrapped around my thighs, lifting me up and pressing farther into me. The sensation and the emotions, it was all just… insane, and I began to shake. He said it again, "Stay still." Despite the order, his voice was soft, begging almost. I tried to ignore it as he moved his mouth up, closing his lips around my clitoris and sucking languidly, pressing his tongue against it in little rhythmic bursts. 

"Oh god… sir…"

"Say my name…" Tenderly he laid me back down, his lips open against my clitoris again. Moving his finger in between my wet folds, he began to push into me, curling up against my spot and pressing gently. "Say my name. Please..."

"Tom…" This was a little confusing, but he seemed so _desperate._ I just closed my eyes and whispered it again. "Tommmm…" As he started to thrust his finger into me faster, his name turned into a moan and I couldn't help but tremble. I thought he'd tell me to be still, but he didn't. I was so drunk… was I over-thinking everything?

Adding another finger, Tom moved his mouth and used his other hand, rubbing my clit with his thumb. "There you are. There's my girl. Oh god I love you so much…" His mouth took over again, tongue moving in little vibrations on my swollen nub. Slowly I let go. I began to roll my hips, meeting his movements, angling myself into his mouth. I didn't fight it, I just rode it out until his fingers, pressing over and over, made me forget everything and I just fell backwards, my body and mind lost in a twirl of bursting light and my walls clutched his fingers, forcing them out. His mouth continued for a few moments longer and by the time he stopped, my head was spinning and my heart was upside down. Once I finally opened my eyes, I expected him to be waiting, ready to fuck me. But he wasn't. He was just staring at me. 

"Tom?" I reached out, my hand on his face, thumb on his cheek. He clutched my hand, kissing my wrist, then he lay down on top of me, his mouth on mine. The scent of my body was still wet on his lips. "Tom?"

"Can I just… can you just hold me, darling, please?" His head dropped to my chest, and I realized he was crying.

"Of… of course." I held him as he clung to me, his tears saturating my dress, his hands gripping me tightly. 

"Elizabeth?" FInally he looked up at me, his red-rimmed eyes heavy and vacant at once as he pleaded with me, "Please don't leave me. I am so sorry. I swear to god you are my everything. You're the only one I've ever loved. Please don't leave me."

My face twitched just barely, and I hoped it wasn't noticeable. I thought about all the things I wanted to say. I wanted to lecture him, tell him what I was feeling, but I knew it was unneeded. I believed him, honestly. I believed he was trying to repair a wounded ego and save face in front of someone who had injured him almost irreparably. I understood why he lied. I did. But… something seemed off. Unsure of what, I pushed the doubts to the back of my mind, hoping it was the alcohol and everything else. I didn't want this to be the final crack that caused us to crumble. My throat kept constricting, though, the pain and uncertainty just below the surface. But I wanted to let it go. I wanted us to survive. I had truly never felt so complete. I couldn't give up.

I drew his face to mine, my lips tasting him, tempering his worry and assuaging his fears. "I won't, Tom. I promise. I won't."


End file.
